I Should Have Known
by FutureFox
Summary: Wilson's acting weird.  Warning: deathfic.


House made his way to Wilson's office. He was in a particularly good mood, not that good for him was all that good for the average person.

He has just sent his minions off to confirm his diagnosis, which he was certain was correct, despite the annoying protests from Cameron and Foreman. Now, he was hungry and he needed his favorite oncologist to buy him lunch.

He didn't bother knocking. Instead he barged right in, slightly disappointed that he hadn't interrupted his friend talking with a patient. All he found was Wilson with his head resting on his arms which were resting on his desk. Wilson was sleeping.

House was both amused and curious by this. On the one hand it was 12:30 in the afternoon and he knew for a fact that Wilson had gone home last night so he shouldn't be that tired. On the other hand, he never knew Wilson snored.

House couldn't help it. He smiled. He was also in a pleasant position of power. He could wake him up anyway he wanted. He could snoop around his office. He could draw on him. He could take all the money from his wallet. But all he did was say, "Wilson."

Well, that didn't pan out quite the way he'd hope.

Wilson breathed in deeply before stirring and reluctantly lifting himself off of his desk.

"Hey," Wilson started, obviously still out of it, "what are you doing here? What time is it?"

House took a seat opposite his friend, "time for you to buy me lunch."

Wilson looked down at his watch and blinked several times, trying to wake himself up. "I don't think so, I'm not hungry."

House was slightly taken aback but recovered quickly, "didn't say you were. In fact, I didn't say anything about you eating at all. Now come on, you'll never believe what the kids did this morning."

Wilson smiled sadly, "really House. I'm not in the mood today. I just, I have a lot of work to do."

House scoffed, "yeah. You were so busy when I came in here."

Wilson didn't have the energy to make anymore excuses, he just wanted House to leave. "House, tomorrow, I promise."

House narrowed his eyes at Wilson, "you're avoiding me. That's interesting."

"If I weren't at least somewhat interesting you wouldn't be here." Before House could come up with a brilliant reply, Wilson was taking out his wallet and handing it to House.

"Here, go nuts," he replied, disinterested.

Now House really didn't know what to think. He figured it was best to take some time to figure it out before extending the conversation, so he took Wilson's wallet and headed off to the cafeteria alone.

"House, the patient's stable, we're still waiting on the results and—."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," said House, shutting Chase up.

Chase rolled his eyes and left his office, followed closely by Foreman. Cameron of course lingered.

"You don't have to stay, the patient's--."

House scoffed, "you really think I'm here for the patient?"

"Well, why don't you go home?"

"I promise, the second it becomes any of your business, you'll be the first to know," House said without looking at her.

Eventually, she took it as her cue to leave.

He gave the three of them enough time to leave the building before poking his head out the door.

Satisfied that the coast was clear, he limped to Wilson's office. Just as he was preparing to knock on the door, it opened. The two men jolted slightly in surprise. House was momentarily thrown off his game.

Wilson took advantage of this, "whatever it is, it can wait, all right? I'm tired and I want to go home," he said trying to move past him.

"By home you mean hotel," said House trying to keep Wilson talking. Ordinarily Wilson was able to walk completely in sync with House but he knew that Wilson could easily get away from him if he really wanted to.

"You can let some opportunities to throw that in my face go, you know," said Wilson, in the same tired deadpan voice he'd used earlier.

"Whoo, are you in a mood today. What'd I do? Did one of your kiddies die? Did an ex call for money? Come on, give me something to go on," House was now talking louder because Wilson was walking faster than House could keep up.

"But then it wouldn't be a mystery and therefore it would no longer interest you," still no change in tone.

"Aww, you're going through all this just to entertain me?"

Wilson reached the elevator. "I'm leaving now, go bother Cuddy."

Wilson stepped into the open elevator. House made no move to follow him. Instead, he stared right into his eyes, "you know, I'll probably just break into your office right after those doors close."

Wilson shrugged and muttered sadly as the doors closed on him, "night House."

"Night Wilson," was the last thing he heard before he was enclosed in the metal prison.

House absently flipped through channels at his apartment. His mind was still on Wilson. Why had he been avoiding him?

He couldn't be seeing someone because that was always more of a happy avoidance of the subject, not of him altogether. If it was just about some patient dying then things would return to normal in a few days, House had been there with Wilson before.

But something in the back of his mind told him this was different. This was something else and House didn't want to wait anymore to find out what it was. He downed a couple of vicodin. He wasn't waiting anymore.

He tried calling a few times but there was no answer. That only irritated House but he wasn't worried. Wilson got into moods, the same as everybody else, there was nothing to worry about.

He finally let his curiosity get the best of him and got on his bike to head to Wilson's hotel.

After charming his way into getting a key to Wilson's room he found himself at the door. He briefly considered knocking but where was the fun in that?

He slid the key in the lock and watched the little light flash green. He opened the door and stepped inside.

The whole room was dark and the curtains were drawn. The TV was off and the bed was made. It would appear that no one was there but House had seen Wilson's car outside.

His thoughts were interrupted when his eyes caught a light coming from beneath the bathroom door.

"Wilson? You decent in there?" He expected a shocked voice to answer him but only silence followed his question.

House wanted to move. He wanted to go in there but for some reason he was frozen. His eyes were fixed on the bathroom door. His heart started beating a little more rapidly.

"Wilson?" The silence was deafening. A car horn outside brought him out of his paralysis and he nearly dove for the bathroom door.

It wasn't locked and he nearly crashed to the tile floor. Before he picked himself up, his eyes saw the horrible sight of Wilson passed out in the bathtub, fully clothed and surrounded by a sea of red.

House pulled himself off the floor and got to Wilson. He grabbed his face in his hands. It was cold and pale. His skin was almost completely white. He felt his friend's neck for a pulse and felt his own blood drain when he found none.

If he hadn't have ridden in the ambulance, he would've sworn the paramedics walked there. He knew that Wilson was gone before they reached the hospital but he couldn't voice this fact. He couldn't respond when his time of death was called. He couldn't respond when Cuddy found him in his office, arms stained red with Wilson's blood.

Cuddy had tears in her eyes, "he's gone House."

House's throat hurt so badly. He barely managed a nod, he wished she would just go away. Instead she walked closer to him. She noticed him visibly tense and stopped walking.

"I'm so sorry."

He needed water. He stood up and limped passed her without a word.

He gulped down the remainder of the bottle of water he'd gotten on the way to the morgue as he was with his best friend's corpse. Each sip of water temporarily soothed his throat but he still wouldn't talk.

He just continued to stare down at the white shell lying on a slab before him. He looked at the deep cuts on Wilson's wrists and shuddered slightly, he would've told anyone who might have been there that it was only from the chill of the morgue.

House was full of loathing. He hated Wilson for leaving him like this. For years Wilson had done everything in his power to keep House alive and then he had the nerve to take his own life and leave House alone?

He hated himself too. He should've known. He knew Wilson was depressed, it didn't take a genius to see that, but he didn't do anything to help him. He knew how strangely Wilson had been acting all day and he still let him go.

He should've gotten into the elevator with him. He should've followed him home. He should've kept pressing Wilson. He should've known that this would happen.

But he didn't pay enough attention to know. He never really had. Sure, his Wilson warning sign always went off whenever Wilson was in the presence of a woman. But when he had real problems, House mostly ignored them. Wilson could work through it himself, he always found a way.

But this time…House wanted more water but he didn't want to move. He was afraid if he left that Wilson would disappear.

It was only a body now but it was all House had left. Wilson had left him so suddenly and unexpectedly he couldn't lose all of him so quickly, he couldn't even think straight.

"House," he heard a whisper behind him. He knew it was Cuddy. His team had all gone home and he didn't want to see any of them right now.

"House, you can't sit down here all night. You're exhausted. You need to go and get some sleep."

What he needed was for his friend to still be alive and no amount of sleeping was going to make that happen. But he didn't say that. He was in no mood to argue.

He stood up and took one last good look at his friend. God, he should've known.

Author's Note: I'm not really happy with this. I'm thinking a short sequel might help but I don't know. I'm just not happy with it. I hope that you all like it though. R&R please, thanx buds


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